


Clean

by small_secret



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Bloodplay, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Shower Sex, hannibal being a creeper, not actually dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 03:08:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/small_secret/pseuds/small_secret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(AU) After Will's first participation in killing with Hannibal, his rebirth has some lingering doubts as he attempts to shower. Hannibal resorts to positive reinforcement quite readily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clean

**Author's Note:**

> Same verse as 'Dinner Conversation'.

Will's hands cling to the faucet, knuckles bone white as he simply _grips_ onto cool metal, a focus against the ragged and _alien_ emotions coursing through his _waking_ system. Fleeting on the skin and searing into the mind. There's a triumph within Will, breaking past dream and into reality though his body still retains the shock of it all. His hair is still drenched in the butchery of the victim, blood under the nails, gore still on his lips, upon his shoulder, and his neck.

 

For all the good that he feels of finally moving _forward_ , the remains of what Will used to be still pin pricks guilt along the edges of his mind. Moments of last breath, of eyes pleading, of a grown man whose mouth babble sounds the mimic the words; ' _please, oh god, please_ '.

 

Blood is still sticky-dry on skin when Will realizes that Hannibal had stepped into the elegant shower stall with him. Will says nothing as he feels predatory eyes regard him, sharp as almonds and warm as autumn haze. A moment, then two, and then minutes pass before the older man brushes up against Will.

 

"At the risk of sounding disappointingly cliche," Hannibal's voice rasps in Will's ear, "The first time is always the most ... difficult." Hannibal has done the lion's share of the pageantry, literally soaked in the vic – _subject's_ blood – after all, Hannibal is the master, the Chesapeake Ripper – that right through expensive cardigan and dress shirt that Will shall never see again. All the clothes have been burned this time, theirs and the vi- _subject's_. They're both very aware of the skill of Jack's forensic’s team and neither Will or Hannibal have the desire to leave them, after all, one should keep enemies close to keep them far and away from their events.

 

But for now? Now Will can only mind the firm body behind him. Synchronized, Will finally leans back into the embrace as Hannibal leans forward and wraps his hand over Will's that _still_ cling to the faucet. The older man's _teeth_ brush against Will's ear. "After all, I've had... nearly three decades of such practice?”

 

This should make his skin crawl, to know that countless lives have been taken, and guilt _stings_ but doesn't overwhelm. Instead, the feel of the teeth, the acknowledgement of practice over talent and the smell of gore and Hannibal simply make Will hard and makes Will yearn for the power of such _control_.

 

Truth be known, Will was half hard when he stepped into the shower while Hannibal is already fully hard. Alive, warm, and against Will's. Will wonders if his back is smeared now with the _subject's_ blood as Hannibal's warm mouth slides along the plane of his neck. There had been artery spray and there was a fine layer of blood on Will's skin and Hannibal's seeks the taste, sucking soft with growing strength on the younger man's skin. The older man's hand turns, coaxing Will's hand to join him in turning the shower on.

 

The spray is cold at first making Will hiss, the heat of his lover's – they _are_ lovers now, _aren't_ they? Prior to this, despite fucking, it wasn't as intimate. It was just _sex_ between peers and very near _friends_ – mouth shockingly warm. Will's hand squeezes against thethe faucet as Hannibal's hand skims over his chest. “Practice is all what you require, practice and acceptance. Instinct alone is a poor master, you know that Will, _we_ know this."

 

Will's smoother than Hannibal for the most part, though there's some fine chest hair for fingers to tug as the spray of water runs over them and Will becomes so very aware. He knows the destination of Hannibal's hand, he knows what Hannibal wants and it's _exactly_ what Will wants. There is soap, conditioner if the tube of lubricate isn't there in the shower caddy but both their hands are occupied. Will now holds onto the faucets with one Hannibal's large hand trapped over his for balance while Hannibal's other hand begins to tug at the fine hairs near Will's nipple before squeezing the bud of flesh itself.

 

Water swirls down the drain red. And for now, Will forgets the hour earlier.

 

All Will wants is to feel Hannibal's skin and to feel _clean_. The sound that escapes Will with the second tug of his nipple is a groan and he _pushes_ against the broad chest in a demand for _more_ , to prove he's willing to give. Neither of them are small, though Hannibal is slightly taller, slightly wider and heavier. All muscle at that, too. Not an inch of fat. Hannibal begins to bite Will's shoulders in response, his hard cock grinding against the curve of Will's ass, trapping it between them.

 

The younger man's toes curl against the shower's mat as Hannibal's hand skims down his stomach to embrace Will tightly. There is a violent hand in the wet mop of Will's hair that jerks his head back and a red mouth captures Will's, hungry for the blood on Will's lips, hungry for _Will_.

 

Hannibal's mouth is hot, velvety, and copper tinged as Will faintly realizes that his hands are free. That Hannibal has their balance and can support their weight and Will knows the intention. Hannibal is no longer hiding what he is and while the other man isn't open as others Will can 'read', Will knows what the older man wants.

 

Will searches the shower caddy, finds the tube quickly rather than stumble for desperate choice of something _other_ and between sharp teeth and demanding kisses, Will fumbles with the tube, slicks his hands and reaches back between them. The touch earns Will a groan from Hannibal that echoes between his lips. Will's hand swipes once, two, perhaps three. Will isn't sure, because the kiss is broken and Hannibal grabs Will's slick hand.

 

There's little preparation because it's not the first time Will's been fucked by Hannibal nor it will be the last. Will's not _clean_ – or rather not _prepared_ as usual – but for all of Hannibal's confessions and preference for the finer things in life, there's a level of grime that he _enjoys_. Bare backed and less than clean ass? That's hardly disgusting to the older man.

 

The water is still tinged pink.

 

The entrance isn't easy, but it doesn't hurt and Will _groans_ as he's filled.

 

"It will come to you – you were made for this existence," Hannibal begins, his accent is thicker than usual, tinged with lust, filled with pride, "You've dreamed about death, you've done it a thousand times," As he speaks, he thrusts shallowly, getting Will used to him once more. It will only take a few minutes as the ring of muscles flexes around Hannibal's cock, "And soon it won't haunt your dreams – you _will_ sleep easily tonight."

 

Hannibal's hand guides Will's once more. But this time it's to the younger man's cock; together their fingers slide over the hard fles. Will's caught in the slow thrust that gradually quickens, the nerves dancing along with touch, though it's not quite Hannibal's thrusts that bring him over the edge. It's the lick against the nape of his neck followed by the sharp bite and the swipe of thumb over Will's cockhead. The cry that rips from Will is half orgasmic, half pained, and _all_ for this moment. He comes hard and tight around Hannibal who thrusts just a few moments longer, arm secure. "Such a _good_ boy." The praise rolls off the tongue and Will basks in it.

 

Moments later, Hannibal follows easily enough and comes silently and _hard_ , the only signs is a last near-painful thrust and the explosion of heat. There's more motion, and Will's unsure how they end up on the floor of the shower, unsure how they didn't _fall_ to the ground as water runs clean down the drain.

 

But they didn't – because of Hannibal. And all is silent as Hannibal strokes Will's tangled hair.


End file.
